


The Protagonist

by Hailhailsatan



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Geraskier, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier has never had sex before, M/M, Mutual Pining, light romantic dirty story telling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26955913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hailhailsatan/pseuds/Hailhailsatan
Summary: After a drunken game of truth or dare, Jaskier reveals he's never had sex before and that after all these years of travelling with Geralt, he just felt like as a bard, he had to tell these stories. Queue lots of comfort and wise words from Geralt, who then tells Jaskier what he thinks his romance stories should sound like...Extreme mutual pining and breathless idiots in love.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 43
Kudos: 188





	The Protagonist

They were drunk and when Jaskier was drunk, he liked to talk. Talk about feelings and embarrassing stories and tell secrets. Geralt couldn’t stand that sort of thing, but he had to admit, when he was loosened up a bit, Jaskier had a charm that he couldn’t resist. 

Geralt had started swaying as he listened to another of Jaskier’s tales. Love, lust, romance, then heartbreak. The same pattern. Conquests gone wrong with total chaos in between, but Geralt did enjoy listening to him weaving his tales. Jaskier would jump around the campsite, acting out parts of the drama. 

Geralt groaned as Jaskier suggested a game. 

“Do me first, do me!” 

Jaskier had a stupid grin plastered on his face, highlighted by the fire they sat by at their camp. He didn’t show it, and he wasn’t sure why, but it made Geralt’s insides feel lighter. 

“Okay... Let me think. What’s your favourite... Food?” 

“For starters, you have to ask truth or dare first. Secondly, my dear, that’s not really an exciting question is it? My favourite food? OH HOW EVER WILL I BEGIN TO TELL YOU-” 

Jaskier put the back of his hand on his head as Geralt rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t have to ask truth or dare, you’re going to say truth. You always say truth.” 

“You’re taking the fun out of this Geralt.” 

Jaskier grumped back, scooting over so that his legs were pressing against Geralt’s. 

“Right, I’ll show you how to do it. TRUUUUTH or DAAARE” 

Jaskier raised each hand like the words were written on his palms. Geralt looked at each like he could see them. He paused, knowing Jaskier wouldn’t hold back with whatever one he picked. 

“Dare.” 

“Oh ho ho ho hoooooo!!!!!! Okay. Tell meeeeee, three-”   
“Whatever it is, I’ll do one”   
“Threeeee things you like about travelling with me.” 

Geralt took a swig of ale before answering. 

“You’re cheating. That’s a truth disguised as a dare.” 

Jaskier stuck his tongue out before taking a drink from Geralt’s ale since his was finished. 

“I’ll give you two, as a compromise. One, you find me cheaper accommodation.” 

Jaskier’s jaw dropped in mock anger. 

“Two... It would be wrong of me to not bring you along now that Roach likes you. Your turn.” 

“You’re not playing properly, Witcher.” 

Jaskier scowled, trying to hold back a laugh. 

“Truth or Dare, happy?” 

“Yes. Truth.” 

Geralt gave him an I told you so look before asking him a question. He waved his hands in a way that was unmistakably Jaskier-esque. Something he had obviously picked up from spending so long with him. 

“Just how many people have you slept with, Jaskier?” 

Jaskier’s face straightened. 

“Why?” 

Why? In all the years they’d played this game, Jaskier had never asked why. He loved this game. 

“What do you mean, why? It’s truth or dare, that’s why, you fool.” 

Geralt laughed, he wasn’t usually the one in control with this game, he felt sort of powerful. Jaskier stood up, stuttering. 

“Forget it, Geralt, you didn’t want to play and that’s that. Goodnight.” 

Jaskier was deathly abrupt, clearly not finding the situation funny. Geralt held his arm as he stood up. 

“Jask, you don’t have to answer, I- I didn’t mean to annoy you. I really don’t care about how many people you’ve slept with, it doesn’t bother me, you can sleep with as many people as you like. I couldn’t think of a question. I’m sorry.” 

Jaskier pulled his arm away before noticing Geralt’s face twist, no matter how annoyed he was he knew it was difficult for Geralt to initiate touch. Jaskier tooth a deep breath before putting his hand on Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Sorry for snapping, love, I’m just tired. I'm going to go to bed, I’ve had too much to drink.” 

Jaskier kissed Geralt on the head, light affection that he’d grown used to. He could sense real upset in Jaskier though, and knew he wasn’t okay, and it wasn’t to do with too much drink. 

Jaskier kept his back to Geralt, pretending to sleep, but Geralt knew he wasn’t. The smell of sadness had permeated the whole camp and Geralt was really wishing he didn’t have the ability to tell. Eventually, he turned round to face Jaskier’s back. 

“I really am sorry. We don’t have to play again-” 

Jaskier turned round to face him, both of them wrapped up in their own travel sleeping blankets, as close as they could get without really touching. 

“Geralt. Please, it’s not your fault, I told you that. Just go to sleep.” 

“No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong. I obviously upset you and I want to make it right.” 

“You didn’t, do, anything, wrong. Sleep.” 

Jaskier widened his eyes, pursing his lips. 

“Well why are you so fucking upset then, Jaskier. I don’t know what to do. I can’t read these situations like you can.” 

“SLEEP. I already told you.” 

They both stared at each other in the dark, waiting for the first person to make a move. Geralt nodded before turning over, making the space between them seem much bigger than before. As soon as he turned, he could smell the sting of pain that was running through Jaskier. They lay like this for 10 minutes, knowing each other was awake. 

“I haven’t... slept, with anyone.” 

Jaskier spoke as quietly as he could. Geralt turned round to face him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“What I said.” 

He was lying on his back, trying not to make eye contact. 

“I’ve never slept with anyone. It’s all an act.” 

Geralt scrunched his face up. He was confused. Why would Jaskier need to lie about it? He could still sense upset coming from the bard, so before he continued speaking, he slid his bedroll over next to Jaskier’s so that they were touching. He didn’t know why, but when they were touching and Jaskier was upset, this seemed to be the way to calm him down, and it was much easier than words. 

“Are... are you mad at me?” 

Geralt sat up. 

“No? No. Why would I be mad at you?” 

Jaskier looked up, questioningly. 

“I don’t know, for lying to you. I feel stupid. I feel-” 

“Jaskier. I’m not mad, I’m a bit confused, but not mad. I suppose, I want to know why you tell so many stories about it.” 

Jaskier rolled his eyes, uncomfortable but wanting to talk. He’d kept this to himself for so long, even though it was hard, he was relieved he had someone to talk to about it. 

“I don’t know. It’s hard. I speak about love and romance and the great powerful feeling behind it all. Meeting someone and knowing this is who you want to be with. Nothing comparing to that special person. I write about it, daily. I suppose it’s my fault really, I built up this person in my head and no matter who I was with... I just didn’t feel it? Yeah, I wanted to... you know, but... the first one, I wanted it to be special. It didn’t feel right. With anyone. I’ve done other things, just... not that. And the longer I left it, the longer I became anxious about it, looking in all the wrong places for this person who will sweep me off my feet. It became more and more important that I got it right the longer I thought about it. And then, now, in my twenties, it’s perfectly reasonable to meet up and just have a one-night thing? Right? And when I meet people, I think... if I tell them... they might not... they might not stick around” 

Jaskier’s voice broke. He put his hands on his face and rubbed at his eyes trying to push down any feelings he had that were going to distract him from this story. 

“Anyway, what use is a romantic bard with no experience? It’s not important to anyone else, I don’t know why It’s so important to me.” 

Geralt sighed and thought about what he was going to say. Jaskier always gave him a bit of time when they were having conversations like this, he knew he liked to collect his thoughts before replying.   
Geralt lay back onto the bedroll then pulled Jaskier’s head onto his chest. There was nothing he hated more than seeing Jaskier upset. 

“First of all, if it’s important to you, then it’s important. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. It’s your body and you decide what you do with it, no one else. I mean that, Jaskier, if you don’t listen to anything else I say, listen to that. It doesn’t matter what age you are or whatever other arbitrary rule you’ve put in place. Don’t let other people’s judgements control your decisions.” 

Jaskier lifted his head and turned onto his stomach, then smiled back. 

“Thanks, Geralt.” 

"If you want it to be special, and be with someone that you know loves you, and wants to make your time together perfect, then why shouldn't you have that? Because you've decided to get it out of the way? I think you're right to wait if it's important to you. Which makes it important to me too."

"Geralt..."  
Jaskier smiled.

“I mean it. And anyway, I’m slightly glad that some of the stories you told me aren’t true. Some of your stories are obscene.” 

“Is that right?” 

They both laughed. 

“Well then, witcher, if you think you can do my job better than me, maybe you should talk more.” 

Jaskier glared at him, smiling, before putting his head back on his chest. 

“Ha. See.” 

Jaskier teased, hoping Geralt would go on. 

“Hmmm” 

Geralt wrapped his arms round him, happy that his scent had turned sweeter. Happier. Content. 

“All of your stories, while yes, they’re romantic, they’re also impetuous. Full of hard and fast affairs that sound like they don’t last the length of your songs. I don’t think that’s what... a protagonist would want.” 

“Oh...” 

Jaskier paused, afraid but also excited to ask. 

“Wh- what do you think I- I mean, the protagonist, would want then?” 

The atmosphere was electric as Jaskier stuttered to catch himself. The air, totally silent. 

“Well, I’m no story teller as you know. But I think they’d be much more sensitive than you make them out to be. This isn’t, getting a job done to them, it’s... important. There’s no hiding from people or ripping of clothes because there’s no time. I think the protagonist would want to be wooed, seduced with words before they were touched. And the person wouldn’t be married or leaving the city the next day or whatever you like to talk about. They’d be... I don’t know... a pining admirer. Someone who looks on from afar and knows the worth of... the protagonist. How much they mean to them. And it would be important to them too.” 

Geralt could feel Jaskier hold him tighter as he spoke. He brought his hand up and started to run his fingers through the bard's hair, and he was quite sure he heard a noise escape from his lips. He audibly gulped before continuing. 

“They’d want to be comfortable. A fireplace and, candles and a bed that has expensive furs. They’d want to be held, gently, before they were brought close to them for what seems like an eternity before they were kissed. And it wouldn’t be, panting or, biting, or rough, not this time. It would be gentle and protective. A kiss from someone who wants to have more. But not just tonight, they know this is the start of something they’ve waited for, for years maybe. I don’t know, they’re your protagonist.” 

“No-” 

Jaskier interrupted. 

“No, go on, I want to hear what you think. Not what you think I think of them.” 

“Well, like I said earlier, I think, the protagonist probably wouldn’t want their clothes ruined. They’d want someone to undress them, slowly. Appreciating the effort they’d put in to picking these clothes. Every button, every lace. Then... well...” 

Jaskier started to breath heavier, hanging on every word. 

“I think it would be important, that the protagonist and whoever they were with, made sure they were both still okay. You never hear anything like that in your stories, Jask, you just get to it. I think the protagonist deserves to be checked on. Told that... they’re loved and if this is all they want that’s okay too. But if they do want more, then they’ll both be happy they made sure. Then after, the other person has taken their clothes off, and they’re just... together....” 

“uhu?” 

Jaskier panted back gripping onto Geralt’s shirt. 

“I think... the protagonist would want to have their body worshipped.” 

“Oh my Gods.”   
Jaskier mumbled under his breath, hoping Geralt wouldn’t hear him. 

“Every inch of it, traced with strong hands, then kissed, lightly marked, to know that they belong together. From the neck, down the collar bone, down their chest. Trailing kisses all the way down, making sure to spend time on that soft part next to the hip bone, the part that makes you buck your hips up involuntarily.” 

Jaskier rolled his hips forward, desperate to be touched, hypnotised by the story. 

Geralt rolled his eyes back, unsure of how far to go with this, now lightly gripping on Jaskier’s hair rather than twirling locks. Gods he wanted them to be closer. 

“Once, every inch, every millimetre, was adored by their mouth, they’d kiss back up before resting their weight onto yo- the protagonist. Then they’d check again, are you ready, love? are you okay?” 

“yes...” 

Jaskier couldn’t help let out a whisper. 

“Then once they knew they were ready, they felt it was the only thing that mattered in the whole world right now, just them... then it would happen.” 

Jaskier’s jaw dropped as he tried with all his might to not make noise, an aching in his trousers and a thud in his chest. They stayed silent, almost shaking, clutching each other. 

“Geralt...” 

“Yes, Jaskier?” 

“Whoever your protagonist is... they sound very lucky. It sounds, perfect.” 

He closed his eyes as Geralt went back to stroking his hair. 

“They are perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hailhailsatan on Tumblr :)!


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